


Hopelessly Contagious

by jessebee



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Gratuitous Descriptions of Cuddling, Han loves it to pieces, Kissing, Laughter, Luke is a snarky little so-and-so, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Post-Canon, Slash, Teasing, kiss meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 04:46:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13850382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessebee/pseuds/jessebee
Summary: Everybody knows laughter is contagious, right?





	Hopelessly Contagious

 

 

“You know what your problem is,” Luke announces, and it's not even a question.

“???” is pretty much Han's response.

In his defense, though, the bed they're in – and the room and probably half the living quarters too – no doubt reek of sweat and semen, and Han is – or was – three-quarters the way to a hard-earned and well-deserved nap.

“I said,” Luke said lazily, and rolls over onto Han's body and takes up residence, as of a right. “You know what your problem is. You _do_ know,” he adds, in “that voice” he has, like pure, undiluted sunshine and liquid sex, and if Han hadn't already climaxed more times in the last twenty-five hours than even a Corellian-standard Human male ought to be able to, he'd be rising to the occasion yet again. His cock gives a twitch even so, and Han might stare at it in awe if he could see it past the farmboy-come-Jedi Knight sprawled on his chest.

“I don't know, actually,” Han says, shifting a little beneath Luke's not inconsiderable weight, because apparently that nap is not on the immediate agenda after all. He sprawls his legs so that Luke settles between them, heavy and comfortable. “But I'm betting you're gonna enlighten me.”

Luke gives him a slow, heated smile that packs nearly as much punch as “that voice” does. “Hmm. Your problem is, that you don't laugh enough.”

That – is so _very much_ _not_ what Han's expecting. “Wha – _'S_ _cuse_ me?”

“You should laugh more,” Luke says, and begins to pepper Han's face with little pecking kisses: on his nose, his cheekbone, the hinge of his jaw; tiny little tracings of wet tongue along the scar on his chin. “Especially during sex, y'know; it's a good thing, laughter.”

Han's got no actual clue where this is coming from and why it's happening _now_ , this playful, sexually-teasing version of Luke, but he'll cheerfully offer up a full ship's-load of Corellia's finest brandale to Luke's mystical Force as a thank-you.

Luke's been somber as a judicator since before they made the second Death Star go BOOM, and that's way too long. The war had changed all of them, for sure, but the shift between the earnest, sunny fly-boy Han had known before and the black-clad man, with the sins of the galaxy on his shoulders and that incomprehensible power singing under his skin, is not only sharp and unsettling, it's faintly terrifying.

So Han doesn't know where this snarky teasing is coming from, but he's going to grab on with both hands and encourage it every way he can. “So, laughter's good, huh? In bed?” he drawls, sliding his hands over warm skin and filling his palms with the muscular curves of Luke's truly fine ass. “Where'd you hear that?”

Luke pulls back just a little from from the meal he's making of Han's skin, enough to give Han something suspiciously like a smirk. “Meditation. Long hours of it, seeking wisdom… ”

“Meditation.” Han's trying not to laugh right now, tilting his head to welcome Luke's resumed predations on Han's throat.

“Seeking wisdom,” Luke murmurs, kissing upward to the sensitive skin just below Han's ear. “Looong hours,” and the tickle of hot breath makes Han shiver. And gives him an idea.

“That kinda dedication oughta be rewarded, I think,” Han says, with a squeeze to the delectable flesh under his hands before he drifts them upward, caressing along the slight dent of Luke's waist.

“So, you're going to laugh?” Luke whispers, setting his teeth lightly into Han's earlobe and the little Outer Rim dustball bastard _knows_ what that does to Han.

Han catches his breath. “Somebody is,” he says, and digs his fingers in.

Luke actually _shrieks_ , full-out, half-deafening Han as he tries to twist away, but that is not going to work, oh no. This battle is _on_ , full-bore and all-out.

They flail across the bed, rolling back and forth, Luke's fingers tackling Han where he's most sensitive, but Han's got the advantage in this and they both know it, because Han isn't very ticklish. Luke, on the other hand…

When it's over, Han's star is ascendant: he's got a gasping bundle of Skywalker pinned under him, warm and sweaty and laughing breathlessly. Han's laughing as well, laughing and kissing that brilliant smile because really, what else can he do? It's the only response that makes any sense at all, and Han's always considered himself a sensible guy.

“There, see?” Han says, kissing Luke's mouth and then making his way down the dent in Luke's chin that Han likes a lot more than he'll ever admit. “Laughing. Happy now?” He rubs his jaw against Luke's and feels the way stubble catches and rasps, almost a tickle of its own, and there's something ridiculously heart-warming about that.

“Happy,” Luke agrees, grinning brightly enough to power the _Falcon_. His hands flex in Han's hold, not really trying to get free although Han knows he could, easily. There's only the faintest hint of difference now between Luke's left hand and his right, the prosthetic hand cooler and feeling just that tiny bit _off_. “Al-though… ”

Han lifts his head so he can be absolutely sure that Luke can see him roll his eyes, still snickering. “Okay, what?”

“It'd help if you'd kiss me some more,” Luke says, and it's not so much the Jedi talking but the desert farmboy, the one who knows what he wants and never, ever gives up.

“You're pretty demanding, there,” Han says, grinning, as he lowers his head and teases Luke's mouth, nipping at soft, willing lips.

“Yep,” Luke agrees, and then he doesn't say anything more for quite a while. Not in words, anyway.

 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Another one for the tumblr Kiss Meme, this one from a nonny mouse who asked for #7, laughing kisses, with Han and Luke. I've tried to oblige :-) Also out there on tumblr, but I thought it ought to have an easier-to-find home.


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